You Did Nothing
by Sanorace
Summary: Death sets out to find the difference between killing and murder. Sequel to either Ten Minutes of Your Time and/or Little Susan. It can also be read alone. Minor link to Bright Shadows. Includes: Susan, Vetinari, Vimes, Lobsang Ludd, and Death
1. Chapter 1

"He looked into its small and simple life and saw the last few seconds pouring away.

He'd never killed. He'd taken life, but only when it was finished with. There was a difference between theft and stealing by finding." – Reaper Man

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.

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Susan?

"Grandfather, what are you doing here?"

I've fulfilled your wish.

"I don't remember asking you to do anything but leave me alone."

You didn't ask. You wished.

"Wishing never got anyone anywhere. I haven't made a wish since I was…" Susan's mouth opened in astonishment. "You didn't…" Susan stood frozen "You?" she asked. She squared he jaw and glared at Death. "How could you?" she shouted. "You bloody hypocrite! You killed someone!" Susan slapped Death's skull. "Get out right now! You can't go stealing people's life just to satisfy some stupid childhood fantasy! You're always like this!"

Death hadn't expected this.

But it—

"Get out," said Susan in a firm level tone. "You have gone too far."

Death looked into her eyes. He could only see the worst parts of him reflected there. She hadn't used her _**Voice**_, yet somehow the words were more powerful without it. Instead of echoing in his brain, Susan's tone dug straight into his heart. He had made a habit of letting himself feel around his granddaughter and this time her unfettered hatred sliced through him.

Death sunk through the floor. It took only a few seconds for Susan to rush down the steps to the cellar.

"You can't trick me with that! I said go!"

Death sighed and disappeared.

.

.

Death stood in front of the doors of Time. It was hard for Death to understand why Susan married Time despite the fact that she always wanted to just be normal.

Err, Lobsang?

"Grandfather?"

Is Susan here?

"No."

I did something bad that made her angry.

"You do that all the time. Just let her cool down."

I do not think she will cool down about this one.

"Should I even be talking to you then?"

You have to help me. She won't let me explain. I didn't even think she would be this angry.

"Oh no, I'm not getting involved in this. You just have to talk to her. I refuse to be your go-between."

Could you at least tell her I'm sorry?

"No!" said Lobsang firmly. "If I know Susan, she'll be furious at you for even coming to me. All I can do is pretend you weren't here."

Death sighed.

When someone wants to forget about their troubles getting drunk is rather effective. Death couldn't feel the effects of the alcohol but still drank it for the look of the thing.

Now she won't even speak to me. She thinks I killed someone.

"Well, did you?" asked the barman. He unconsciously blocked out what his eyes couldn't possibly be seeing. The customer seemed very thin and pale. There was nothing wrong about that, right?

Um…

"It's a simple question. I'm sure you would remember if you killed someone or not, unless it was an accident or something. There's a lot of moral wiggle room when it comes to murder."

But it wasn't murder! Um…I don't think it was…

"Do you remember where you might or might not have done it?"

Yes.

"Maybe you should avoid that place for now."

But, what should I do about my granddaughter?

"I don't know. Women are hard to understand. You can try talking to one of her friends."

I tried that, but I'm not really up to date on who she affiliates with.

"Probably a good thing."

It's just that I don't even know if what I did was wrong.

"Usually if something is illegal then it's wrong, but that's kind of a tricky subject since a lot of legal things are wrong too."

How can I tell if something is illegal or not?

"You really shouldn't go around asking people about it. You could get the Watch called on you."

And that's a bad thing?

"You could get hung for killing people… sort of. I guess it's more of a maybe depending on how nice the Patrician is feeling that day."

That's it? I get hung? For how long?

"Err… it usually only takes a few seconds, but I've seen people hang for a good two minutes. Then there was that one guy who just hung there for a good half hour before everyone got bored and left."

Only a half hour? That's not so bad. Maybe I'll try asking the Watch. I've met the commander a few times already. He's on my list.

"On your list? Let me give you a bit of advice, pal. If you plan on attacking Commander Vimes, you should rethink it. He's notoriously hard to kill."

Yes, he is a stubborn one. I will get him eventually though. I always do.

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.

Hello.

Samuel Vimes jumped in his seat. He snatched his crossbow, spun around, and ducked into the corner of his office all in one practiced motion. There was no one in the room.

"Will you all stop dogging me? I know for a fact there isn't a price on my head right now."

I assure you that any dogging I might do is entirely unintentional.

"I have a blanket you know!"

I'm not a bogeyman.

"The only person around here who can hide from me this well is Vetinari and he doesn't use contractions. Who the hell are you?"

You know me. I just want to talk.

"Well, you better get out into the open where I can see you."

If you insist.

Death made himself more clearly visible.

"Bloody hell, you look like…"

Yes I get that a lot.

Vimes didn't lower his crossbow. Something in his mind couldn't let him see what was obviously in front of him.

"You do look familiar."

We met in Uberwald. You were a bit out of sorts at the time though.

"I don't think…"

And in Koom Valley

"… I remember."

I was on Cable Street, but I don't think you heard me.

"… You…Gods damn it!" Vimes scowled and lowered the crossbow. It wouldn't be of any use. "I couldn't hear you, but I felt you. I knew you were there."

You always recognize me.

"So is this it? Heart attack or something? Years of smoking and drinking get to me finally? For some reason I always thought I would die in the line of duty or maybe at the wrong end of Vetinari's dagger."

You would be able to see me much clearer if that were the case but no. I am here on other business. It's a legal matter.

"Take it up with the Lawyer's Guild." Vimes sat heavily in his chair. He instinctually backed up a little.

I doN't believe that will help. They would be too lenient with my case, Mr. Slant owes me one, but I have been told you would arrest the gods if they broke the law. I am not a god but I think you should arrest me nonetheless.

"I think you're out of my jurisdiction."

Then whose jurisdiction am I in?

Vimes rubbed his temples with one hand.

"Fine, which law did you break?"

It's not quite like that. I may have killed someone.

"Well, you are Death." Vimes shuddered. Verbally admitting what his eyes didn't want to see was not an easy thing to do.

You know I doN't kill those people I come for. You've seen me at work.

"More often than I'd like. What is this about, really?"

I want to know what you think about assisted death.

"If you want an assistant then go to the Assassin's Guild. They would have the uniform already."

You know what I mean. I watched you do it.

Sam's face went blank. He would rather not think of the twenty-fifth of May.

"I have no regrets about mercy killings."

But is it illegal?

Vimes put his hand on his face. "What did you do?"

"I took time away from a young girl. I did not deliver the killing blow, but I shortened her lifespan. Ten minutes before she was scheduled to die, she suffered a terminal existence failure."

Vimes stared Death in the eye.

"And how was that mercy?"

Death produced a glass object. Inside was a spiral of flaming sand. Lightning arched between the grains and left black burns on the inner walls of the glass. Vimes did not need to be told what it was. He could feel the vile air hanging like a corpse around it. Rage welled up inside him.

"Ten minutes…"

Yes. I took them from her. I asked beforehand just to be polite. She gave them to me willingly, but still I feel as if I've done something wrong.

Vimes pounded his fists on his desk.

"You could have done something to save her!" he shouted. "You just watched her die!"

Yes.

Vimes' chair clattered to the ground and he jerked Death's collar down so that he could stare into the eyes of Death.

"You watched her die and you did nothing," he said each word slowly and deliberately. His voice was brimming with barely restrained fury.

I watch everyone die, even my daughter and son-in-law. Do you think I have no reason for that?

"With all your power…"

Could you do it? Could you take on that responsibility?

"I bloody well would!"

Yet you don't.

Vimes shoved Death away. He trembled with rage held back only by a thread.

You could save so many people in this city. You have the wealth and resources to change the world and you don't. You have the power but you do nothing with it. You are not forced to watch them die but you could save them nonetheless.

"I can't change how people think! It's not my responsibility to save the world! I'm not some sort of messiah!"

Neither am I.

"I have a wife and child who depend on me! I only have a certain amount of life left. I can only do so much, but you are different! Who do you have in your care? How much time do you have left? You can't call me a hypocrite when I'm only human! Humans can't live solely for others!"

Havelock Vetinari has.

"Well, why don't you take it up with him then? You seem to have the same sense of style and detachment! You'll get along swimmingly!"

.

Ahem.

Lord Vetinari flinched for the first time in years. He slowly turned around but did not meet Death's eyes.

"At one point in my life, I wondered what I would say to you in the end," he said. "I stopped."

I'm actually surprised you can see me properly with your eyes averted like that. You of all people, I thought would at least look at me directly.

"Not this time."

You always struck me as a curious man. How do you know this is your real death? We've met several times before and you were never so coy with me then.

"Today, I did not see you coming. There were no signs. I am completely unprepared. My skills have failed me. In my line of work, failure is terminal."

You are certain then?

"No."

Why?

Vetinari raised his head as the doubt filled him.

"My emotions tell me it is not my time to die. I feel more than fear and the need for self-preservation. I have some doubt, but I still believe I am dying." Vetinari looked at death with an expression that he hadn't shown anyone else. He sighed. "I have never seen you so clearly before."

Is that so? Might I ask you when you think you should be dying?

"I believe I will be eighty-four or perhaps eighty-five. I have, as they say, a gut feeling."

You are a unique human being, Mr. Vetinari. The fact that you have managed that much without magical abilities is remarkable. You are right of course.

He produced a lifetimer. It was white with subtle accents of grey and black. The ornamentation was plain but swirls and channels could be seen on the edges like wormwood.

Withholding any accidents, you will die around that time. I am here on a different matter entirely.

Vetinari blinked frozen in place. Death had the best poker face ever. Even Lord Vetinari couldn't read him.

"Could we talk in the other room, please?" Vetinari's subtle change in demeanor went unnoticed.

Since you asked so nicely.

Havelock ushered him into a smaller side office. He sat down in an overstuffed armchair and breathed easily.

"I'm actually relieved to have you here, and not in the 'keep your enemies close' kind of way. Of all people, I don't need to stand on ceremony with you."

Mr. Vimes said you didn't use contractions.

"Bah, what does he know?" said Havelock waving his hand dismissively. "When I retire and get my garden, I'll let myself use as much sloppy grammar as I please, but I refuse to use the words ain't and gonna." Havelock shivered at the very thought of it. He slumped in his chair and covered his face with a hand.

You really plan on retrireing? You have done so much with your life. How could you just give up that control?

"I'll never really lose it. That would be nigh impossible even if I change my face and name, I'll still be me. I know I'm a manipulative bastard, I'm rather proud of that."

But your city, you've given everything to improve it. aren't you worried?

"Oh, yes, that. Ankh-Morpork will be fine without me. I have a list. I'm trying to guess who will become Patrician after me. It's still too early to bet on anyone. Until I leave, I will quietly allow people to take out those candidates that I disapprove of. No matter who wins, I will have come to trust them and teach them in my own way. I do not need to be in power for my city to grow. I don't need to be here for my wishes to be carried out. Someone I trust will make the decisions in my place."

You have always been pragmatic.

"So far, that Lipwig kid looks promising. He has a shoe in already. What is it you wanted anyway? I have a hard time believing you make social calls."

I don't. Most people aren't very happy to see me.

"Most people only see you once."

Does this mean that you are happy to see me?

"No, but it's refreshing to have someone to talk to who can only tell tales to dead men." Vetinari squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with both his fists. "Damn it! How could I be so stupid? You talk to wizards and Vimes apparently," he groaned and sat up. "Even with Death I cannot relax."

I do not gossip. I find it distasteful.

"I know about the rite of Ashk Ente."

"I don't lie, but I don't have to answer their questions either."

"What would I need to give you in exchange for your silence? No, that is the wrong question. Is there any way you would be willing to not talk about this to others?"

Hmmmm. You realize you are making a deal with Death? That's not wise.

"I do not assume what this entails. It would be kind if you explained the procedure." Lord Vetinari was obviously uncomfortable speaking so deferentially.

It means what I say it means. I think this time I will require a fair trade. If someone asks me about you, then I will not answer, but each time I do that, I will also visit you.

"Visit me?" said Vetinari raising an eyebrow. "What would happen during your visit?"

I do not know. I think I'll leave that up to you.

Vetinari raised the other eyebrow.

"How long will these visits last?"

It depends on how hospitable you're feeling.

Lord Vetinari's face bore an expression of utter bafflement before he quickly wiped it away. He considered the offer for a few minutes before answering.

"Do you play Thud?"

I always win.

"Indeed."

He mused over the deal for a while longer.

"I agree however I would rather you come to me when I am not otherwise engaged. I would like to have the option of asking you to come back later."

Then I must insist that you not ask me questions that I have heard billions of times already.

"Deal."

Lord Vetinari stood and proffered his hand. Death looked at it mystified.

You would let me touch you?

"Perhaps not. What will happen?"

I have been told I have bony knees and my hands feel like river rocks. Also, with your permission, I could feel your touch.

"You mean you will only feel me if I permit you to?"

It is a personal policy. Would you like me to feel?

"Is that part of the contract?"

No.

"Then we have an accord."

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.

A confidentiality agreement has been made. Now they both can speak freely. How will Vetinari react to Death's moral dilemma? I'll give you a hint. It doesn't go well.

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Yes I know Vetinari wouldn't let his guard down even for Death, but just go with it.


	2. Chapter 2

Lord Havelock Vetinari Patrician of Ankh-Morpork shook hands with Death. When he sat down however, he was only Havelock.

"River rocks are a good description. Who was it?"

MY GRANDDAUGHTER.

"So Susan Death really does exist?"

YES, AND IT'S HER THAT I WANT TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT. MR. VIMES DID NOT LIKE IT.

"How angry was he?"

HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GOING TO HIT ME. HE GLARED AT ME.

"He does that to me all the time, but I'm not an anthropomorphic personification of the end of worlds. You must have made him furious. What did you say to him?"

I TOLD HIM I KILLED SOMEONE.

"Your granddaughter?"

NO. IT WAS SOMEONE ELSE.

"That normally wouldn't tip him off unless he considers it murder."

THERE'S A DIFFERENCE?

"For Vimes there is. He has killed many people but he never murdered anyone. He's very particular about that."

SO WHAT I DID WAS MURDER?

"It depends on what you did."

I WATCHED A LITTLE GIRL DIE. I TOOK TIME AWAY FROM HER.

"Ah, yes that would do it."

YOU'RE NOT MAD?

"Oh, I'm angry, but I won't do anything about it yet."

YET?

"I'm not as brash as the Commander is. I can wait until later. Please go on."

I MET HER BEFOREHAND. SHE GAVE ME TEN MINUTES. SHE DIED BEFORE SHE HAD TO.

"Yes that counts as premeditated murder even if it is only ten minutes."

BUT SHE GAVE THEM TO ME, I DIDN'T STEAL THEM.

"Even though she chose to die early, you still caused her death by honoring her request. You say you took time from her. You took life from her. That is the very definition of killing."

OH… SO I AM A MURDERER. THAT'S WHY SUSAN IS MAD.

"Well, there's an ill-defined legal and moral ground between causing someone's death and murdering them. Vimes has drawn a line down the center of it and built a barbed wire wrought iron fence on it a mile high with a moat in front filled with poisonous crocodiles. He knows damn well where homicide stops and murder starts. For him it is all about intent and remorse. For my part, I believe the person is just as dead regardless, but I understand why he would think that way."

"You approached someone with the intent to take her life. On the official Vimes Sliding Scale of Evil, that would be considered bad. You asked her permission and she agreed knowingly. That is good. You asked a child to make a complex life decision when they don't have the maturity to understand fully what they are doing. That is bad. I'm assuming you took this life painlessly?"

YES

"That is good then. You still took her life despite being fully aware of the consequences of your actions. That's bad. You are showing remorse. That's good. You are attempting to understand your actions with enough determination that you would approach a man known for his ability to arrest absolutely anyone. That is idiotic in my opinion but a good thing nonetheless."

SO WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

"It means that according to Vimes in this particular instance you're on the fence and he doesn't like that. He also hates people who kill innocents. That was probably what set him off."

OH…

"But what I'm interested in is motive," said Vetinari slowly with more than a hint of a threat. "Watch what you say."

MY GRANDDAUGHTER WANTS TO GIVE ME SOMETHING, BUT IT WOULD REQUIRE HER TO GIVE UP A PORTION OF HER LIFE. I CANNOT TAKE THAT TIME AWAY FROM HER.

Vetinari glared at him. His eyes were ice cold. He stood up and donned his role as Lord Vetinari Patrician of Ankh-Morpork. He put on his blank mask of office that revealed nothing.

"You tread on unsteady ground. Continue."

IT TOOK ME A LONG TIME TO FIND A REPLACEMENT.

Lord Vetinari stepped forward with the air of a tightly coiled snake. Death stood to his full height.

YOU CANNOT INTIMIDATE ME.

"Neither can you me."

THERE IS NO ONE WHO DOESN'T FEAR ME.

"Your granddaughter."

YOU ARE NOT SUSAN. YOU ARE AFRAID.

"I only fear the death I cannot choose. You would not kill again."

Lord Vetinari stared at him with eyes that had seen oblivion. Death saw himself reflected in those eyes.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE WHAT I TOOK FROM HER?

Death produced the same glass object that he had shown to Vimes. It looked like a lifetimer but didn't have the pinch in the middle that would separate the top and the bottom. The burning sand thrashed violently.

"Who was she?" asked Vetinari coolly.

MANY PEOPLE DIE IN YOU CITY, MR. VETINARI, BUT FEW CREATE A LASTING IMPRESSION. DO YOU REMEMBER DOLLY SISTERS?

"Put that away!"

Vetinari put his fist through a wall

YOU'RE ANGRY.

"Yes, now I'm angry!"

YOU'RE SAYING WHAT I DID WAS WRONG

"Yes it was bloody wrong! Why the hell did you only take ten minutes!?"

I… WHAT?

"That girl suffered for hours! They kept her alive just to hear her scream! They were torturing her and you only took ten minutes! You watched them murder her slowly! You listened as she begged for your peace and you did nothing! You knew what was happening! You could have taken away every last second of her suffering, but you didn't!"

PAIN IS PART OF LIFE.

Vetinari grabbed the front of Death's robes and forced him against the wall but he phased through it causing Vetinari's two fists to break the plaster. The Patrician charged into the next room. Death lay on the floor dazed. Two wizards looked up at Vetinari's manic expression and screamed. They fought each other to be the first out the opposite door. He could hear them shouting down the hall that the Patrician killed Death but he took no notice.

He pinned Death to the ground and grasped his spine below his chin.

"I may not be able to strangle you, but you don't need to be breathing for me to snap your neck!"

I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

"People like her die every day, people who have been praying for you to take them for hours, days, and even years yet you do nothing! You leave the burden of decision on men like me and Vimes. When I kill out of mercy I take a risk. I can't know if they might recover from their wounds or if they will even be thankful for the life I let them have if I didn't kill them. I can't know if they can be saved or not, but you can!"

Vetinari shifted his hands for better leverage and strained against the morphic field that held Death's bones together.

"You've had that power all along and this is the first time you bothered to use it!"

Death's neck sparked and popped as the bones were forced apart.

"You are the only person on the disc who can help them die and you choose not to!"

Vetinari twisted the bones. He stretched the field to the brink of collapse.

"You know if someone will continue to suffer until death, but you won't take their life! You just stand there! You've been standing there since the beginning of time!"

Death's neck snapped. The sound echoed off the walls of the room and collided with the very essence of the space. Time crumbled in on itself, twisted and distorted.

The drastically unnatural warp did not go unnoticed.

Lobsang Ludd appeared. He sized up the situation and came to the conclusion that this was another one of Death's little 'outings'.

"Grandfather, what the hell are you doing? This isn't helping you fix your problem with Susan."

I UNDERSTAND NOW, TIME, said Death's decapitated scull. The blue points of light in his eyes had faded. SUSAN WAS RIGHT TO BE ANGRY.

"You're Jeremy, the clockmaker?" asked Vetinari.

"No… well yes, just shut up," said Lobsang. Vetinari was not accustomed to being so easily dismissed.

I'M SORRY, TIME. I DIDN'T THINK. I NEVER WOULD HAVE GUESSED IF MR. VETINARI HADN'T POINTED IT OUT TO ME.

"Don't call me that. I'm your grandson now."

"You're Time's grandfather?" Vetinari looked down at Death's skull and raised an eyebrow.

"In-law, now shut it!" said Lobsang irritably.

WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? I'VE ALREADY COLLECTED THE GIRL'S SOUL. I CAN'T DO IT TWICE.

Lobsang sighed. "Pull yourself together at least."

WHAT'S THE POINT?

"If you disappear then Susan will have lost her grandfather."

GOOD POINT.

Death's body grabbed his head and clicked it into place atop his spinal column. He sighed and just lay back down.

"Now tell me what this is all this about?" said Lobsang irritably. "You usually don't poke holes in reality without a good reason."

I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

Lobsang sighed. "Fine then," he turned to Vetinari, "what happened?"

"He took time away from an innocent girl. She was suffering."

"Why did you have to go and snap his neck over that? You're a tyrant! Don't you do that sort of thing all the time? You know what? Don't answer that. Grandfather, give me the time. You were probably going to ask me to take it anyway."

I DIDN'T KNOW HOW ELSE TO DO IT. IT CAN'T BE USED IN THIS STATE.

Death handed over the glass container. He looked at it with disgust and resigned comprehension.

"You really thought this through didn't you?" he said softly.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Vetinari skeptically.

Lobsang punched Vetinari in the gut. He felt the pain but didn't see the movement.

"That was for attacking my grandfather, but also to illustrate a point. The exact moment I hit you gave you the most pain. Right now it doesn't hurt that much. What Grandfather did was take away six-hundred separate seconds over the span of two hours. Each grain of sand contains a single instance of excruciating agony. He took the very least he could and saved her from the most pain possible. If I gave this to Pestilence then he would have a jolly holiday with it."

Vetinari stared at Death incredulously. He was still lying on the floor.

I COULDN'T TAKE ALL OF IT. HER DEATH WAS IMPORTANT. YOU REMEMBER, MR. VETINARI.

He did remember. Because she died, Commander Vimes upturned the entire city looking for her murderers. Because she died, an unsanctioned criminal organization had been brought to justice. The whole of Ankh-Morpork benefited from her death.

"I do."

SHE SHOULDN'T HAVE NEEDED TO DIE. I WANTED TO SAVE HER, TO LET HER HAVE THE LIFE SHE DESERVED. I WANTED TO INTERFERE AND STOP HER FROM DYING, BUT I COULDN'T. I DO NOT HAVE THE POWER TO GIVE LIFE. ALL I CAN DO IS TAKE LIFE. I'VE NEVER KILLED A PERSON BEFORE. I DIDN'T THINK I COULD DO IT, BUT I AM DEATH. I CAN CAUSE DEATH BUT I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT SKILL AS A GOOD THING.

ALL THIS TIME, I HAVE BEEN SKIPPING OVER CHANCES TO HELP PEOPLE IN A WAY THAT ONLY I HAVE THE AUTHORITY TO DO. I COULD HAVE BEEN TAKING TIME FROM PEOPLE ALL ALONG AND I DIDN'T. THERE WERE SO MANY WHO BEGGED ME TO TAKE THEIR LIVES AND I LET THEM SUFFER. I WAITED FOR THEM.

I AM DEATH. ONLY I HAVE THE AUTHORITY TO KILL, YET I HAVE BEEN LETTING MURDERERS AND THUGS MAKE THE DECISIONS FOR THEIR VICTIMS. I CANNOT GIVE LIFE, BUT I SURE AS HELL AM NOT GOING TO LET VERMIN DECIDE WHEN A PERSON IS TO DIE.

Death rose from the floor and stood tall.

THIS IS YOUR FAULT GRANDSON, YOU AND YOUR STUPID TROUSERS.

Lobsang rolled his eyes.

"Regardless of whether your actions were right, wrong, or somewhere between, these minutes are volatile. I need to filter them without actually using the time."

"I know one thing that will help," said Vetinari.

He left the room. Time distorted and he returned immediately. He was holding a few leaves of paper. He thumbed through the pages and separated some from the rest. He gave them to Death who examined them closely as if they would suddenly not be what he thought they were.

UM…

"Yes?"

I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP MUCH.

Lobsang took a look at the papers and smiled.

"It's a better idea than I had in mind. You should try it."

BUT I DON'T SING.

"Is there not such a thing as a swan song?" said Vetinari. "Can you do baritone?"

UM, I DON'T THINK…

Death looked at his grandson pleadingly. Lobsang shrugged and waved his hand in a vague gesture.

"Music can have a serious impact on people. If you choose to sing then even I won't know what will happen."

YOU'RE NOT WEARING THE TROUSERS OF TIME ARE YOU?

"I only wear those on certain occasions. It's like you and your sword."

Death stared at the sheet music inquisitively.

IT HAS NO WORDS?

"Words complicate things." Vetinari said.

Death stood and somehow managed to clear his throat. He paused for a moment before he started to sing. The notes resonated with the uncountable souls that Death had come to since the beginning. The chorus of the dead filled the room with an ancient wind. Suddenly Death stopped and the magic drifted away.

AM I SUPPOSED TO SING THIS PART TOO? He proffered the paper to Lobsang.

"You're singing bass and no that's the tenor part. I thought you would be good at music."

I CAN READ IT BUT I NEVER REALLY UNDERSTOOD THE APPEAL.

Lobsang sighed. "Give me that." He glanced through the composition happily. He handed Vetinari a few sheets.

"What makes you think I can sing?" asked Vetinari.

"You're good at math and I'm almost certain this is your handwriting."

Vetinari flashed a frustratingly ambiguous smile. Death started the song from the top. The sounds of billions of voices came together to form each note. His voice echoed in oblivion. Time joined his grandfather in a celestial chord that made Vetinari's bones vibrate. It had been a long time since he had felt so small. Flanked by the preternatural cadence of Death and Time, Havelock was overwhelmed. He looked down at the lifetimer on the floor. The sand phased through the glass and orbited around outside it in wide circles but a force still kept them bound to the wicked flames trapped inside.

Havelock closed his eyes. He did not need the sheet music as he had seen it many times before. His mind blocked out the presence of the supernatural as only a human could. He convinced himself to only see the sand and only hear the beat. Alone in a world only the insane and the politically inclined can create, Havelock sang. Each note made solely for the sand and nothing else. His voice was nothing special and some of the higher notes were strained, but still he sang.

He remembered that night, when the little goblin girl reminded him that he had a heart. He sang to the sand, not what she had said through song, but rather what he felt when he heard it. Havelock delicately and intuitively steered the song from its original composition into one that reflected his own experience.

The sand was drawn to him, but couldn't reach. Each grain pulled at the bindings, but none of them were strong enough to break the painful strings tethering them to the livid fire trapped in the bottle.

Havelock held out a hand to touch one, but it shied away. Each grain of time wanted desperately to reach him but constantly avoided his hands. They did not want his help.

Havelock sat back and changed the tone of the song. It was lighthearted and almost militaristic. He thought of the Glorious Twenty-Fifth of May and how the men continued to fight together even after their leader had died. His voice softened as he recalled how right it felt to fight alongside them. He sang of the lasting memory of the men who died and how the living still love them. Each note reflected a piece of human emotion that Havelock had not allowed to pass through his skin but had felt inside nonetheless.

The sand heard him. The scattered grains joined together. They pushed each other farther out, and though the fire still bound them, they rallied behind one another and stretched the tether to the limit.

A single grain of sand snapped free followed by another that had been directly behind it. The force of the broken tension shot the sand past Havelock like a crossbow bolt.

He thought of when he had given Moist von Lipwig a second chance and how a conman can change his ways. He sang of the silent pride he felt when he watched him fly. He remembered Captain Vimes the drunkard who lived his life trying not to exist until he found a reason to live. He told the sand about Vimes' devotion to his son and wife and how he envied them.

The two grains of sand returned to the others. They pushed the sand that was still bound even though they risked being reclaimed by the tendrils of fire. More sand escaped and joined the backup. A grain of sand that had once been free was claimed by the fire but the sand was getting away faster than the flames could grab hold of them. Soon they were all free of the fire's influence. They fled to Havelock. He let them touch him and flow over his face and arms.

He continued to sing as his constructed world faded away. He sang of how much his city meant to him. He sang of his plans and the joy it gave him to think of the future. He collected the sand and held it gently in his hands.

The song ended. There had been no words, but the message was clear nonetheless.

"I want to keep her," said Havelock.

YOU CAN'T HAVE HER IN THIS STATE. SHE HAS NO BODY AND HER SOUL HAS ALREADY BEEN REAPED. YOU WOULD HAVE TO MAKE HER POSSESS ANOTHER PERSON'S BODY AND I WON'T LET YOU DO THAT.

"She's only ten minutes old right now. She can't survive like this."

"I will keep her and you will help me."

"No! You can't do this! The best thing for her is to be used to make something in Death's Domain. At least there she can make a difference. If you keep her then she'll just fade away."

"I will give her a place to live. I will make it beautiful."

"Where? Where could you possibly put her? She's not even technically human right now."

"I will hold her inside of me. She will protect me and I her. I will love her."

EVEN IF YOU COULD SAVE HER SOMEHOW, IT CAN'T LAST. SHE'LL DISSIPATE AS SOON AS HER HOST BECOMES UNSTABLE.

"That will not happen."

HOW CAN YOU BE SO SURE?

"Because I have already done it." Vetinari scanned a bookcase. "It will be here."

And it was. On the bottom shelf was a small book next to a long abandoned mouse hole.

"Don't worry. I'll be there. The rats will take you to me. Try to smell like cheese."

Havelock gently let the sand slide into the pocket of the dust jacket and placed the book back on the shelf. The spine said 'Lacemaking.'

"She is stronger than she looks."

Lobsang turned time back on. The book disappeared into the past.

.

.

.

Who really knew what evil lurked in the hearts of men?  
ME.  
Who knew what sane men were capable of?  
STILL ME, I'M AFRAID.

- Night Watch

.

Connected to Bright Shadows


End file.
